


Swingsets

by deadskilletted (orphan_account)



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, somewhat canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-10 07:31:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2016390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/deadskilletted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nico learns it is a bad idea to fall asleep on the top of the mast. And Jason already knows it is a good idea to keep an eye on the Ghost King from the deck. They were supposed to be friends, after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swingsets

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on fanfiction.net on December 28th, 2013 under the user deadskilletted (that's me).

_Up. Down. Back. Down. Up._

He loved the playground swings as a child. He had this dream before. It would be him and his sister, his real sister, swinging back and forth next to each other on the swing set, or sometimes not next to each other, because she went slow and steady while he moved his legs wildly and made the chains buckle. The metal chains would always be rusted and cold. The rails would squeak like the mice that scurried under the mulch on rainy days. And she would always say it was getting late, stop swinging, then get up and start walking away. She would always leave.

_Up. Down. Back. Down. Up._

He would always stay. Even after she called his name. Even after she looked back. Even after she just gave up entirely. Even after her silhouette faded and blended in with the scenery. He would always stay. And he would always keep going at the same rickety rate. And he decided he wanted to change that. Even if there was no ground under him after she leaves, because she kept him down to earth, in more ways than one.

_Up. Down. Back. Down. Higher._

This was when he was going to control his own dream. Besides, just because it's in his head, doesn't mean it's not real. And gods, he sounded like Dumbledore there. And the sky sounded closer as his spirit sank further like the Princess Andromeda, except much less explosive, and much quieter, since he preferred to stay in the background, and either way, he couldn't manage an exit that magnificent. And it certainly wouldn't be as heroic.

_Up. Down. Back. Down. Higher_.

Momentarily, he wondered why "hero" was a synonym for "demigod." He was no hero, was he? Yet he was a demigod. A son of the Big Three, no less. The part of the Big Three that was cast off Olympus. This led him to wonder whether that was a reason or a signal to throw himself off the world. A world that recently came into focus, showing its wretched truth. The Mist couldn't hide that. And he was so high, he could just jump. Right? The fact he was dreaming slipped his mind at that point.

_Up. Down. Back. Down. Higher._

He could make up for lost time out there. Out anywhere that wasn't here. And he was high enough. He was high enough and insane enough and sad enough. Everything he had was gone, and that was more than enough, and he could simply... fly... just... let... go...

_Up. Down. Back. Down. Soar._

It was more falling than flying, really. He still felt like he was floating, the clouds' cold fingers wrapping around his waist and carding through his hair like his sister used to do. Soon, the day turned to night right before his eyes. Stars dazzled far away in galaxies he wasn't a part of. Maybe he would slingshot into space, filling the void in between the bright, beautiful stars. He would separate the white hot twinkles with ice cold darkness. He would finally have a place where he was welcome. A place where he was needed. He aimed for the stars, absentmindedly listing constellations.

He did not expect to crash into the sun.

_Up. Down. Back. Down. Lower._

The sun caught and cradled him, ridding of the usual cold from space and the wind and the clouds and himself. Its hands were warm and stable and loving and real.

_Lower. Down. Slower. Down. Down._

Its hands were also forceful and desperate and pleading and scared. But they were there to correct his stupid mistake, and that was more okay than he was.

_Slower. Down. Lower. Down. Stop._

His feet touched solid ground.

_Down. Down. Down. Down. Down._

And he opened his eyes.

_Up. Down. Back. Down. Up._

To be swayed by the hands of the sun.

**Author's Note:**

> Gods, I need to stop writing sad stories. If you need/want an explanation, here it is. Do not read if you want to leave this story to your own interpretation or don't want even a hint of a spoiler. Here we go;
> 
> Nico fell asleep on top of the mast where he usually takes watch, and has a dream he has had many times before. But he subconsciously changes it so he jumps off his swing and starts free-falling. In reality, he is sleepwalking to the edge of the mast and would've fallen if Jason (the sun, cause you know, son of Jupiter) hadn't grabbed him the last second, realizing he was asleep. Nico wakes up to Jason hugging him after bringing him back down to the deck.


End file.
